Beloved
by mendedpixie
Summary: Erik wants to dictate a certain letter to Nadir for him to write. Things per usual, don't go as Erik planned. There's a lot of tears and and a happy end for all. one shot.
Nadir had received one of Erik's near illegible letters a week before. A rather odd question had been proposed within it, one that had made the Daroga's stomach turn, as much has he tried to ignore it;

 _"Daroga,  
I request that we meet at your apartment. I have a rather urgent letter I need to dictate to you. It is to be addressed to someone rather important to me, so important that I would rather come to you for assistance in communicating my affections, as my handwriting could never be pleasing enough for so good a person…"_

Nadir swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat, remembering the rest of the letter. The damn fool wanted him to write a love letter, most assuredly to his student, the young Daae, despite no name being mentioned. He had always worried about Erik's interest in Christine, but he reminded himself that there _were_ worse ways to communicate one's romantic inclinations, especially in the case of Erik.

He told himself that he was simply worried for Mlle. Daae. However, Nadir knew well enough he was jealous, and he almost felt betrayed. But he ignored it. It was not his business, and he had always been quiet about his affections for men, and especially for Erik. He had to be in order to survive.

Just then, Darius peaked his head through the door to the Daroga's study. "Erik is here," he stated quietly. Upon Nadir's nod, he opened the door all the way, and Erik glided in, silent as usual, but rather tense.

 _He must be nervous about this letter, how Christine will receive it, how I will…_ Nadir cleared his throat, and tried to ignore what he was about to do. "Hello, Erik."

"Daroga," Erik replied curtly.

They both remained silent, Erik standing, the Daroga sitting. On most of their visits, they settled into their usual banter, or on unpleasant days, arguing…or even more unpleasant, remembering Persia. Sometimes they would play a game of chess, but today both were nervous and unable to settle.

"Ah, won't you sit, my friend?" Nadir cringed at the final word. "I already have everything set out, so we can begin immediately."

"Immediately…" Erik said, not quite a question, and a murmur Nadir wasn't quite sure he was meant to hear. Erik sat abruptly, rubbing the edge of his mask absentmindedly. "Yes of course, immediately." He swallowed nervously, and forced his hands to rest on the arms of the chair.

Nadir continued to lay the quill, ink, and paper out, not particularly concerned with Erik's nervousness. The man was nothing but nervousness half the time. He glanced at the masked man sitting still as a stature in his wingback chair, waiting for Erik's signal to begin. Nadir had successfully numbed himself for what was about to come. Erik finally gave a curt nod.

" _My beloved Daroga_ …"

Nadir hadn't heard the rest. Erik's shaking breath and the word "beloved" rang in his ears, and for a moment he thought there was blood on his hands, but it was only ink. In his shock he's spilled it all over the letter and his desk. "I-I'm sorry, Erik, I…" he looked over and Erik was now standing, no sign of breath in him except that he was shaking, his hands in fists. Nadir couldn't tell if he was angry or frightened and for a breath they both stared at one another, wordless.

Suddenly Erik stalked to the door mumbling a goodbye of sorts, but the Daroga was not letting this end in confusion or denial. He caught Erik's hand before it could open the door and he could disappear like the ghost he claimed to be.

"Let me _be!_ " Erik hissed, his breath now in ragged gasps through clenched teeth; he did not snatch his hand out of Nadir's.

Despite the venom in his voice, the Persian could feel Erik was on the verge of collapsing. And he still had Erik's cold hand in his own. "Please," he whispered, as he tried to guide him back to the chair.

Erik shook his head, his mask unable to hide the absolute fear and shame in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I will never again, just let me…" his quick apologies sounded vastly different than his outburst seconds before.

Nadir softened his gaze, and gently squeezed Erik's hand. _So changeable, this man_ , he thought. "Don't go. Not yet, just…sit with me for a few moments."

Erik still looked down at Nadir, terrified and embarrassed, but his anger at himself subsiding. Everything within him was telling him to run, to leave, to hide, but the Daroga was warm and inviting…He let his body relax just enough to concede to Nadir's urgings to stay. With guidance he fell back into the wingback chair, hunched over with one spidery hand covering his mask.

Nadir cautiously sat back down at his desk and turned to face Erik. How should he even approach this? He was still unsure if he'd actually imagined Erik's words to _him_ , and not to Christine…all he wanted to do was ask questions, take the damn mask off of Erik's face so he could see what he was truly feeling, and hold hi – no, he had to stay calm if he was to get any answers, because Erik would shut down entirely if he didn't handle this just right.

He knew he couldn't handle this just right.

"Say it again." Nadir said softly.

" _No_."

" _Please_."

"You _mock_ me!" Erik snapped.

"I do not."

"What I said was revolting to you."

"Another falsehood. Am _I_ revolting to _you_ , Erik?"

A shocked gasp, and wide yellow eyes stared at the Daroga. " _How could you say that?_ " he choked out. " _Never_ , Daroga. _I_ am the revolting one, the monster in the room, _I_ would be revolting to _you_ , never the other way around, no matter what I have said in the past…you are beautif – " Erik covered his mouth, embarrassed at his outpouring. "Forgive me…"

"Why will you not let me decide for myself?" Nadir snapped, frustrated. "Why have you decided so thoroughly that I am offended and revolted, and you will not let me hear your words and decide –"

"Because of your _reaction_ , you fool! Because of what I _am_! Because of what is underneath this _damned_ mask and because of my mind, you ass!" Erik screamed.

He paused, shoulders shaking, and Nadir had a feeling he was crying beneath the mask. "I know what you are, and I don't care, Erik."

"I should have been quiet, I shouldn't have tried anything, not even my _handwriting_ is beautiful, but I just wanted to _try_ …" Erik murmured, unhearing.

"His handwriting…" Nadir said. _He wanted me to write it because it was easier for him and because he couldn't even stand to write letter about this because…Allah…_ "I am sorry for my reaction, Erik. It was not out of disgust or offence, far from it." Realizing that Erik still wasn't listening, he took a deep breath, stood up from his chair, and knelt in front of him. Erik flinched and looked up as the Persian placed a hand on top of his own.

"Just let me hear it again, Erik." Nadir said. "Please, beloved."

To Nadir it seemed as if Erik were suddenly made of stone. He did not breathe, he did not flinch, he did not cry. And then, ever so quietly he said, " _My beloved Daroga_ ," and he moved his fingers against Nadir's own.

Nadir breathed out a small sob to Erik's surprise. "You are in earnest?" he asked.

Erik nodded. "Yes…I am sor – "

Nadir interrupted him. "Don't. Don't. I love you."

Erik made a small noise, and covered his mouth, trying to stifle his sudden cries.

They stayed there, Erik seated and Nadir kneeling in front of him with their hands clasped for a long time. Each wanted to simply rest in the assurance of what had happened, to hold hands in order to remind themselves that _this was real_ , for each to slowly pull the other out of their disbelief. Both cried in turn, and laughed as well, mostly in shock and amazement.

After a time, and each had calmed a little after their confessions, Nadir asked, "May I see your face?"

Erik made a watery laugh and shook his head. "I would not do that to you. You would change your mind."

"Erik, I have seen your face numerous times before. I will not force you, you know that. However I _do_ wish to see you, and I promise you, I will not change my mind."

Erik sighed, smiling sadly to himself. "What would you do if I said yes? Nothing different would happen."

Nadir paused, thinking perhaps Erik legitimately didn't see the significance in removing his mask. The Persian's brow creased, thinking of the bits and pieces of Erik's past that he knew of. "I would give you a gift."

Erik scoffed, and rubbed Nadir's hand with his thumb. "A gift?" he looked up. "Whatever do you mean, you fool?" he said gently.

"If you took off your mask, I would kiss you."

Erik was silent, and then, after a long moment, " _Oh_."

"I would not press boundaries. I would not hurt you, I –"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Just…give me a moment, Daroga." Erik released Nadir's hand, sat up, leaned back in his chair and took a breath. "Look away until I tell you to."

Nadir sat back on his heels. "Of course." He looked down at his hands as Erik removed his mask.

Having untied the mask, Erik still held it against his face. He glanced down at the Daroga to make sure he was still averting his eyes, and after a shaky breath, lowered the covering.

Nadir was right, he had seen Erik without his mask many times. But Erik needed his time. Very rarely had Erik been unmasked in his friend's presence since they had left Persia, and never in Nadir's home. And in this circumstance…it felt more dangerous, more risky than usual to do so.

"Alright." Erik finally breathed. Nadir raised his head, and looked at Erik. His skin was altogether too pale; warped, tendon-like pieces of flesh roped underneath his cheek bones, his nose nothing but a jagged hole, and his deep-set yellow eyes were cautiously averted away from Nadir's face. It was still the same face he had seen in Persia years ago, only more hollow with age, and his hair thin and wispy. Scars from Persia and before were still visible. He thought sadly about the ones covering the rest of his body.

"I love you," Nadir said.

Erik shut his eyes tightly, willing no tears to form.

The Persian reached up and gently cupped the side of Erik's face.

" _Oh my God…_ " Erik moaned.

Nadir backed his hand away slightly. "Is that alright?"

Erik nodded, eyes still shut. "Yes… _please_."

Nadir replaced his hand back on Erik's face. Before long, Erik was crying again. "For someone so ferocious, you certainly have no shortage of tears, beloved."

Erik opened his eyes. "Shut up."

Nadir laughed, and wiped a tear away with his thumb. "I love you," he repeated.

"I love you too," Erik whispered.

Nadir lowered his hand from Erik's face, and stood up. Erik looked at him, worry clear on his face. _I doubt the man ever learned to properly hide emotion without the mask,_ the Daroga thought. "Don't worry. I'm not leaving." Erik looked away, shy that he was read so easily. "May I kiss you?"

The tips of Erik's ears turned red, and he nodded.

Nadir slowly bent down, and placed both hands on either side of his thin face, and kissed Erik's forehead. Nadir heard a small gasp from Erik, and asked if he was alright. Erik nodded again. "May I?" and he brushed a thumb over Erik's thin lips.

Erik looked hungrily at the Daroga, but only said, "You have done more than enough."

"Do you want me to stop? I will if you want."

Erik thought for a moment, but didn't take his eyes off of Nadir. "N – No. Don't stop."

Consent given, Nadir leaned forward, but stopped inches from Erik's face, unsure of himself. Erik nodded, urging him on, and finally Nadir closed the gap and kissed him. It was a chaste, gentle kiss, mingled with salty tears. Erik lay still until Nadir backed away, only to stand abruptly and embrace a startled Nadir.

"I – I'm sorry, Erik, did I go too far?" Nadir asked, confused to this reaction.

"No," came a muffled, weeping response. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just… _I love you_ , I am very happy, forgive me."

Nadir, slowly wrapped his arms around Erik's waist. "There is nothing to forgive, beloved." Despite everything Erik had done and everything Nadir had done, his words felt like truth, and each of them basked in it.

Outside, Darius smiled, wiped away his own tears, and walked away from the door. He headed to the kitchen to fix three cups of lemon tea.


End file.
